Birthday Bash
by Agent Midnight
Summary: POV birthday fic, angst, suicide


"Surprise!!"  
  
The door spills open and I'm instantly assaulted with flashes of familiar faces and friendly smiles. Someone near the back of the crowd throws a roll of blue streamer, and my eyes lock onto it as it flies through the air silently, coloring the world for a brief second before gravity pulls it down to the carpet Laughter caresses my ears as I step into the room, trying to count how many people were bunched in my office.  
  
Quatre's excited voice broke through the cheers, everyone immediately responding.  
  
"Happy birthday to you!"  
  
I can't stop myself from smiling as a strong hand grasps my shoulder and tugs me further into the room. The people part to the side as I'm led through to my desk. A blue-trimmed cake is sitting innocently on the table with eighteen brightly lit candles circling the edge.  
  
"Happy birthday to you!"  
  
Trowa lets my arm go and steps back into a row of co-workers and friends, his voice adding to the obnoxious singing. I turn away from the cake and smile more boldly at everyone who cared to show up, and finally my eyes come to a pause on him.  
  
His eyes glitter as he lifts a hand and flashes me the V-for-Victory sign, for a brief moment stopping his participation in the festivities. We watch each other closely, until he laughs and waves his arms around wildly.   
  
Duo's eyes close and he raises his voice a couple of pitches so he can be heard above all else.  
  
"Happy birthday, dear Heero!"  
  
Familiar faces fade into the background as he steps forward, his hands outstretched in my direction. My hands find their way closer and closer to his wrists as he stops about a foot in front of me and grins that broad grin that tells me he's up to something.  
  
I open my mouth to comment about how much I hate his tricks, but he beats me to the punch-line and jerks his arms up, his fingers uncurling away from his palms. Color clouds my vision temporarily as a shower of red confetti flies into my face. I feel a few oddly-tasted shards fall into my parted lips, and I spit them out quickly, ignoring his beautiful laughter.  
  
The crowd surely goes wild with laughter, as well, but I can't hear anything else. My eyelids slip open and I see him in front of me still, his eyes burning into my soul. Silence is thick in the office and I flick my eyes around the room to see the rest of the guests.  
  
I was unprepared for them to be gone.  
  
The blue streamers are nowhere to be seen, and the birthday cake isn't on the desk with all the candles that probably won't go out until they are turned off by the trickster himself. Quatre isn't weaving through the crowd, laughing. Trowa isn't watching me with the intensity that he's well-known for. Wufei isn't standing by Sally, toasting me with a glass of punch.  
  
My co-workers aren't singing and swaying their plastic cups to-and-fro as they try to make the birthday song sound as horrendous as humanly possible.  
  
The lights are dulled down, the room only lit by the cold glare of the moon out the window.  
  
Une isn't trying to force a cone-shaped birthday hat on my head while whispering that I'd better have a good time or I was going to get more paperwork.  
  
My big birthday bash consists of Duo.  
  
His hands are held outward towards me, splotches of red stuck on his palms.   
  
Confetti, surely.  
  
His eyes are staring straight into mine, his laughter gone. His voice silent.  
  
There's a tickling sensation on my face, and I bring a hand up and swipe a finger across, trying to flick the intruder off. My skin encounters liquid.  
  
I bring my hand in front of my face to have a look, and I see trails of red. Duo starts to take a step back, arms still reaching for me. My hands are suddenly at my face, wiping at the liquid. The red liquid stains my palms, and I reach for Duo without another thought.  
  
I snatch one of his outstretched arms and wrap my hands firmly around his wrists. He hisses in pain, his eyes separating from mine to stare down at his hands. I follow his gaze and see the fresh blood seeping from between my fingers.  
  
A soft shout leaves his throat as he loses his balance and tips backwards. I lower us both down to the floor and hold his wrists. The fingers of his left hand loosen, and his razor blade tumbles to the floor to join us.  
  
I scream for help, but no one responds. The office building is clear.  
  
I put pressure on his slashed wrist, rocking him against my chest. The phone shrieks in the sudden silence. My hand fumbles around on the desk until I can grab the cord of the receiver, and I yank until the phone falls to the floor. I answer it, and words rush out.  
  
"Oh, god. Help! Help! It's Duo- He cut his wrist! Please... Please!"  
  
I feel soft lips against my chin, and I glance down to see his vibrant eyes flash briefly with laughter. His free arm raises a black object, and I freeze. My body shuts itself down in denial as I let one of my hands leave his wrist to do what? To stop him?  
  
Just as my fingers clasp around his wrist to yank his arm away, his finger tenses and the object clicks. For a split second, the office is painfully loud and lit with a flash of white light and then... all is silent, yet again.  
  
Red flashes into my eyes, blinding me with color.  
  
His gun spills from limp fingers.  
  
My mind races until the blood is blood no more, but confetti thrown by my love.  
  
His laughter bubbles out of soft lips, and he dances away before I have a chance to get my revenge.   
  
And it's not until his body turns cold against my chest that I can actually believe my fantasy.  
  
"Happy birthday to you." 


End file.
